Dracula Meets the Addams Family
by AllWeSeeOrSeem
Summary: Dracula spots Morticia Addams on a late night hunt. He instantly falls head over heels and quickly decides the world would be better off without Gomez Addams. Obviously don't own Addams Family or Dracula. But, it would be insanely amazing if I did!
1. Morticia's Present

"Gomez, Darling? We've arrived," purred Morticia, Gomez's beautiful wife, in his ear. Her painfully sharp, blood red nails dug into his arm, piercing the skin. He loved how she turned to violence whenever she wanted to get a point across. To, literally, let it "sink in." The pain only aroused his already obsessive desire for his wife.

Gomez opened his eyes, smiling widely at Morticia. She was the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on. No other woman could compare. Her tall and slender body with the most desirable curves man had ever known, her long, silky black hair that fell below her waist, her beautiful, curved dark blue eyes that dazzled any and every man who were fortunate (or unfortunate) enough to gaze upon them, the lovely and striking pallor of her skin against her black hair and the long black dress that clung to her so tightly that not one bit of her feminine curves weren't visible. At the moment, though, Gomez's attention was centered on her luscious, blood red lips. Morticia generated desire in Gomez by merely parting those luscious lips. The memories of her amazing lips sent a wave of lust through his body, taking all Gomez's control not to jump out of the seat of the dreaded plane, and make passionate love to his wife.

Morticia released his arm, licking the blood from her nails. He would have scars to match the many Morticia had already given him. Though, they were very faint. Morticia never scarred. No matter how many times they used whips, hot pokers, and other such toys, her beautiful skin remained flawless. Gomez kissed the hand that had pierced him, desperately. Morticia snatched it back with a seductive smirk that tortured Gomez to no end.

"Later, my dearest. After we get off this dreadful aircraft," she added, sharply. The plane ride had been very… unpleasant. Even in first-class, the food was terrible, everyone smiled too much, the lights were too bright, and the entertainment was some sort of terrible movie called the Sound of Music. The airline had no taste.

"Next time we fly, we'll take the jet," Gomez promised, helping his wife to her feet. He glared at every male passenger that gawked over her as they passed by. He held her to him by her waist, warning other men that she was taken, if they did not notice the silver wedding band on her left ring finger.

* * *

Gomez pulled her to his chest, possessively. She smiled. She loved it when her husband was possessive. Gomez was insanely jealous of every man that saw Morticia in any light other than family. Morticia loved it. He was so passionate (more than usual, at least) when he was jealous. Not to mention, it kept him in line. She would never have to worry about her husband looking at another woman while he is always looking for men looking at Morticia. Once everyone had passed, Gomez and Morticia followed the rest of the passengers off the plane.

Morticia gasped with surprise. The dratted sun was out, and it was far too bright. She absolutely hated clear sunny skies. Especially when they first arrived in the vacation place of her dreams. Transylvania. It was Gomez's 10th anniversary present to Morticia. So, they had left their six and eight year-old children, Pugsley and Wednesday, with Mama and Fester, while they went to Romania for a romantic two-week getaway.

"Here you are, _Cara Mia_. I knew we would have at least one day of bad weather," said Gomez, pulling out Morticia's favorite black umbrella from his briefcase. He opened it, shading her from the dreadful sun. Morticia sighed with relief, and put a hand to his cheek.

"You are so thoughtful, _Mon Cher_," she purred, then quickly grabbed the umbrella with her other hand when Gomez released it to begin kissing up her arm.

"French, Tish! You spoke French! You know what that does to me!" he moaned, continuing to kiss up and down her arm with passion. Morticia smirked, evilly. Of course she did. She snatched her hand back, prolonging her husband's torture. She loved to torture Gomez. It gave her pleasure to see him like a wild animal before she finally gave herself to him, willingly. Not to mention, he was far better in bed when he was on a rampage. Gomez stared at her, growing more anxious with every moment. She loved the control she had over him.

* * *

They arrived two hours later at their hotel. It was a large manor turned into a resort a few years ago. The couple walked inside, footmen carrying their suitcases behind them. They stopped at the front desk. A middle-aged man greeted them, awestruck. Morticia was very aware of the affect she had on men, and used it to her advantage, often.

"Morticia and Gomez Addams," she said, knowing Gomez was too busy glaring daggers at the man to ask for the keys to their suite. It took the man a moment to snap out of his trance to respond.

"Addams? One moment, please…" he stuttered with a thick Romanian accent, flipping through a small calendar book. Morticia loved Romanian accents. She loved the language. She spoke it, fluently. She had always been good with languages. She spoke English, French, Yiddish, Romanian, Latin, and Bulgarian, fluently. Gomez was fluent in English, Spanish, and Italian. Not as good as his wife, but still impressive. Gomez held Morticia closer to his side, making Morticia's dark, seductive smile widen.

"…it's room 666. I need you to sign some papers before you get settled in…" said the man, sliding a stack of papers across the desk towards Morticia. Gomez snatched the pen from the desk, and pulled the papers towards him, beginning to read and sign them. He released Morticia, reluctantly. Morticia turned to the young men with their luggage, smiling.

"Would you boys be so kind as to bring our luggage up to our room? It's 666. When you finish, come back and you'll get your tips," she asked with a purr. She needn't have mentioned the tips, as the young men had already picked up their things, and headed to the hall to the right. Morticia smiled, darkly. She loved her talent for bending the wills of men. She loved getting everything she wanted. She turned back around to the desk, and leaned into her husband, resting one hand on his bicep, and the other on his shoulder. She squeezed his arm, biting into with her sharp nails, making Gomez pause and look at her, questioningly.

"Tish?" he asked, frowning.

"Hurry, _Mon Cher_. I tire," she whispered in his ear, seductively. He snapped his head around to face her, his eyes blazing with desire.

"French," he whispered. Morticia pointed at the papers.

"Papers first, Gomez," she said. Gomez quickly began to sign each sheet without reading them, at all. Not fifty seconds later, Gomez pushed the papers across the desk, and quickly pulled his wife to his chest with a hungry look in his eyes. Morticia heard a cough, and saw the receptionist holding out two keys to them. Gomez snatched them, and lifted his wife up into his arms. Morticia pulled out a generous amount of money from Gomez's pocket, and laid it on the desk. The man's eyes widened at the amount of money before him.

"Please give this to the young men who brought up our luggage," she said, without looking at him, as she only had eyes for Gomez.

"Of course, Madam," he stuttered.

Gomez carried Morticia away from the front desk and headed for their room. They arrived five minutes later, and Morticia did not even remember how they got there, as she had been staring at Gomez the entire time. Gomez gently placed his wife on her feet, and unlocked the door. He opened it, letting her in, first. Their luggage was sitting in the center of the suite.

The room had dark burgundy walls, dark mahogany furniture, and a great black satin bed. She walked over to the bed, and felt the mattress. Very solid, hard, and stiff. Good. Gomez must have requested it. Most hotels had soft and plushy mattresses. She had no idea why anyone would want to sleep on such a horribly comfortable surface.

She knew Gomez was watching her every move. Every sway of her hips, toss of her hair, and parting of her lips. She knew every trick there was to know about seduction. She was seduction. She knew exactly what she had to say or do to set Gomez off, and how to torture him with passion. She did it every day. She never failed. She never would, as long as she had Gomez to torture. He was her favorite victim. Her only victim of passion. Morticia whipped around, pressing her back to the wall, her hands sliding down the wall beside her, parting her lips, and lowering her eyelids.

"You can have me now, _Mon Amour_," she whispered, huskily. Gomez was on her so fast she didn't have time to breathe. He crushed her against the wall, ripping into her mouth like some starving animal. He pinned her wrists to the wall on either side of her head. Then, he took her wrists together, and slid them up above her head, pinning them with one hand. He slid his free hand down her body, causing Morticia to moan in their kiss. He stopped at her thigh, and began pulling up her long dress. Once her dress was just below her hip, he lifted her leg up above his waist, massaging her thigh with his magic fingers, then traveled lower, grabbing her ass. Morticia gasped in their kiss, rising up to press herself harder against Gomez's body. That set him off. He released her wrists to hike her other leg above his waist. Morticia placed her hands behind his neck and began to passionately ravage her husband one last time before she lost control.


	2. The Vampire

Later that day, Morticia came out of the bathroom wearing her anniversary present for Gomez. Her black and lacy nightgown that only passed halfway down her thighs. Gomez was laying back on the bed, his hands behind his head. When he saw her, his jaw dropped. Morticia smirked.

"What do you think of your present, _Bubele_?" she asked, watching his muscles tighten. She walked over to the bed, and crawled over to her husband, curling into him. Gomez kissed the nape of her neck, sending a shiver down her spine. She felt Gomez smile against her skin, and continue to kiss her most sensitive spot. Morticia gasped, huskily.

"I love my present, _Querida_. I love anything that comes from you," he whispered, nuzzling against her neck and holding her tightly. Morticia sighed happily, and fell asleep.

Morticia woke up to find it was the middle of the night. It was night in Transylvania. Her heart skipped a beat. She had to see it. She gently wriggled out of Gomez's arms, and put on her black silk nightgown, walking to the balcony door. She opened it, quietly slipping outside, making sure to close it behind her, just as quietly. She looked around, leaning on the balcony railing. It was so dark and quiet. A cold breeze swept by, whipping her hair about her, making her shiver in delight. She loved the cold. The Carpathian Mountains could be seen in the distance. They were beautiful, and topped with snow.

Vlad was hunting when he flew by the resort. The scent of warm blood carried by the wind made him do a double-take. He looked around for the source of the smell, stopping when he saw a flash of white against the darkness. It was a woman standing out on a balcony of the hotel. A tall and slender woman with skin as pale as his own, like she had never walked in sunlight, and long black hair that flowed wildly about her with the wind. He had to have a closer look. His curiosity was overpowering his thirst, at the moment. He stretched out his arms, feeling the change engulf him, and flew up to hang on the tree right next to the balcony.

He could see her clearly, now. She was breathtaking. Her skin was luminous, glowing in the darkness. Her strikingly deep red lips, reminding him of the color of blood, were parted as though she were sighing. Her long black lashes opened to reveal beautiful, sparkling blue eyes. She only wore a black robe, and as she pushed herself forward, her very generous curves were revealed. He could even see a bit of her breasts from inside her robe. Who was this woman, and where had she been all his afterlife?

Vlad was about to attack and make the beautiful woman his bride, when the balcony door opened, and a dark-haired man with a mustache came out, dressed in a matching black robe. The woman didn't react to the sound of the door, and only smiled, closing her eyes, when he wrapped his arms around her.

Whatever blood Vlad had left from the night before boiled at the site of the dratted mortal man holding Vlad's would-be victim and bride. He nearly attacked when, again, something made him hesitate. The woman twisted herself from the man's embrace, moving further down the balcony. Perhaps the man was just a toy? The thought cooled Vlad's blood, and he listened when the woman spoke.

"Not now, _Mon Cher_. I'm watching Transylvania's beautiful night. It feels so dark and mysterious. Just like home. The weather is divine and the mountains are so beautiful," she purred in a deep, seductive voice that made desire pulse through Vlad's body, even while he was not in human form. He continued to watch the pair, his curiosity building inside him. The man looked as though he wanted nothing more than to ignore the woman and force her to the ground to make passionate love with her, but held his ground, clenching his teeth and making tight fists at his sides. Vlad wondered what on earth kept the man from forcing her to change her mind. Did she really have that amount of control over him? He watched some more.

"You make it very difficult for me, Morticia. When you stand there, so relaxed and vulnerable… I cannot control myself with you, _Cara Mia_," he professed, desperately. Morticia. What a dark, yet beautiful name. It suited her, well. The woman, Morticia, turned around to face the man, a dark and seductive smile formed on her beautiful lips. She put a hand to his cheek, making it hard for Vlad to stay in his hiding place.

"I know, Gomez. However, we both know I am hardly vulnerable. I promise you I will not deprive you all night. So, behave and have a cigar, or go back inside. Later, _Bubele_," she purred, smiling as the man's face became more and more tortured, especially when she slid her hand to his chest, and he moaned. Her smile was almost cruel. Vlad was fascinated. What was this woman? She could do this to a man and he somehow holds it all back only because she asked him to? It reminded Vlad of his control over his brides and human slaves. Perhaps…Perhaps she was like him, a vampire. A vampire with a human slave. She could even be a master vampire, like him. He had never known another existed, or could exist, even.

His train of thought was interrupted when the man left Morticia outside, unable to control himself. Vlad saw Morticia's robe had come undone, while she had been torturing the man named Gomez, and nearly fell out of his tree when he saw her nightgown. She tied herself back up, and turned to face the night sky, again. Then, she laughed. Vlad couldn't imagine why, but she seemed to find it all very humorous. What a strange, yet enchanting woman. Vlad stretched a bit, accidently making a squeak. Morticia whipped around and spotted Vlad, quickly. Her laughter stopped, but her smile grew from cruel to what he assumed to be pleased. She walked over and reached a hand out to Vlad, who couldn't move if he wanted to. She brushed a finger along his back, making him shiver. Then, she began to talk to him.

"Hello, my friend. Have you been here the whole time? Hmm… a wild Transylvanian vampire bat. How marvelous. I'll bet you are quite the little bloodsucker, aren't you? I would love to take you home with me, but I couldn't take you away from this beautiful place. You are a very beautiful bat. I've never seen one quite like you," she said, absentmindedly stroking Vlad as she did this. Even though she was talking to him like some stray dog she had found, Vlad could not help but cling to her every word. Especially when she called him beautiful. If he had a heart, he may just have died from hearing those words from that woman's lips. Morticia looked behind her with a sigh.

"I suppose I should go inside. I have tortured poor Gomez enough, today. Though I do want to stay with you a bit longer, I should go. Oh, well. _Se la vie. Adieu, mon beau. Mon mignon_," she cooed, and left him hanging on the tree, dazed. That woman was amazing. She had to be a vampire. She was too perfect. There was no other explanation. She went inside, and he could just barely see her climb on a black bed, then no more. Vlad flew over to the balcony, turned back to his human form, and put a hand to the glass door partially covered by a thick black curtain. Then, he whispered to the beautiful woman he had just seen that very night, a message she would not receive.

"If you are what I believe you to be, then we are meant to be. I vow I will not stop until you are mine. Until you are bound to me, I will never stop haunting you. You will never be at peace until you kneel before me in surrender. I shall leave you, for now, my dark princess. I will see you soon, in your dreams. Sleep now, Morticia. Sleep…" his whispered, turned from the window, and flew off into the night.


End file.
